


Earning Extra Credit

by Dawnwind



Category: Fastlane
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-14
Updated: 2011-04-14
Packaged: 2017-10-18 01:28:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/183456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dawnwind/pseuds/Dawnwind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Missing scene for 101</p>
            </blockquote>





	Earning Extra Credit

Deaqon Hayes piloted his silver Astin Martin like an Indy 500 driver through downtown traffic, Johnny O's warning about Rudy and Randy ringing in his ears. Slowing to slide through the intersection, he tuned out all extraneous sounds, especially police sirens. The last thing he needed right now was to have some quota happy patrol cop glom onto his tail for a moving violation. He wasn't carrying a badge, or any official police ID of any kind, and had accesorized with two semi automatic pistols. Hard to explain, but just the thing to take down a couple of freaks who'd kidnapped a cop.

At least Johnny O had come through for his old friend with an address-a warehouse in a run down area popular for drug buys and cheap porno flicks. It was the only possible place those rat bastard sadists might have taken Van.

He didn't let himself dwell on his partner's capture-what might be happening to Donovan Ray right at this very minute. But his guts were never wrong and they'd been churning like molten lava since the bust-gone-wrong in the parking garage that had reeked of gunpowder and tire rubber. He and Billie Chambers had been left behind in the exhaust. The Metzes-Rudy and Randy, gone. Their henchmen, gone. And most importantly, Van was gone, along with his protégé, Jared Calloway. Deaq didn't let himself think about anything but making it to that warehouse before Van's blood was spilled across the concrete floor.

The car phone squawked sharply, the noise even more abrasive than usual. Deaq punched the talk button mounted on the rear view mirror without taking his eyes off the road. "Yo!"

"Tell me you have a lead," Billie demanded. Deaq could hear the desperation in her voice. She wasn't usually so obviously rattled and that scared him.

"I got a lead."

"How close?"

"Five minutes," he spit out, willing the physics of space and time to change their laws just for him.

"Van-they got him," Billie said with her usual brevity. "And Jared's there, too."

"Dammit." That changed everything. He'd liked the kid-been impressed by Jared's tenacity and ability to run with the big dogs, but he'd almost hoped that the kid had been scared off-or maybe hightailed it back to his influential Daddy. Having him there just doubled the danger. If Rudy and Randy divined their two hostages were cops there would be bodies strewn across that warehouse like so much garbage.

"You've got to get there fast," Billie urged, her words practically tripping over one another in her haste. "This is not going to be good."

Aw, fuck. Just when he'd managed to get his imagination under control, she had to go and say that. Did Billie know something more than she'd let on? He almost called her back demanding more information, but instead leadfooted the gas, urging the Astin Martin ever faster. Billie's warning had opened the floodgates, though, and unbidden images rushed through, sickening him. Johnny O's description of Rudy cutting off his victim's thumb and watching while Randy dropped it into a smoothie, both wagering how long it might take to get the amputee to the hospital to have his digit reattached spurred Deaq on to breakneck speeds. That was not going to happen to Van, not now, not ever. If those two sadistic perverts laid one finger on his compressed his lips in a line, refusing to allow those thoughts to color his mind. He had to stay calm, in control and focused. Van said it best- 'don't show fear, need, loyalty or love." Deaq could still see him, leaning into Jared's face, ticking the separate points off one by one like a maniacal schoolmaster. He'd always known Van could be a little obsessive-a trait that came in very handy in their line of work-but he'd never seen the full extent until Van Ray took on Jared Calloway as a pupil. He was still surprised one of them hadn't killed the other in the process.

Milvia Street came up on the left and there, in an alley between two buildings, was Jared's candy apple red Toyota Supra. Deaq swerved the Astin Martin in a tight curve, slotting the silver car into the alley. Huge warehouses loomed up on all sides, all under the same collective address. But where was Jared-and Van? Deaq ran silently up a small ramp, pistol held at the ready, his whole body preternaturally still, sending out his senses like long range scouts, straining to hear any out of the ordinary sound.

Rounding the edge of one building he found a second even bigger one.

A voice from inside the warehouse yelled "Four! Three!"

Jared! Was it possible the kid had gotten the upper hand?

Tightening his grip on the Desert Eagle, Deaq put on his game face, intent on two goals-neutralize the enemy and protect his comrades. His heartbeat accelerating in spite of his determination to stay calm, he crossed the intervening space in an instant, bursting into a cavernous establishment just as all hell broke loose. Gunfire punctuated the air, bodies rushing wildly in every direction. Pulling off a shot in the direction of the Asian, Deaq was peripherally aware of Jared flying through the air to tackle Randy. Spotlighted below an incandescent overhead light Van was a blur of motion, swinging a chair around to clock the hulk behind him.

With shocking suddenness, all was still. Four bodies lay sprawled on the cement, three cops stood victorious. Van reached down to raise Jared to his feet, and Deaq let himself relax. They were all safe. The three conquering heroes stepped into the triangle of pure white light, blessed with the victory of good over evil. It was truly sublime.

Grinning in triumph, Deaq surveyed the carnage, producing his cell phone from a back pocket. "I'll call Billie. Van, collect the weapons. Jared, keep an eye on the riffraff, don't let any of 'em wander."

"The Asian's dead," Jared stated flatly, but the quavery way he sucked in a breath betrayed how freaked out he was. Deaq was kind of surprised Van didn't rag his pupil up one side and down the other for the way the bust went, but Van had turned away; staring at Rudy's huddled form before kicking a gun across the floor. Rudy was bleeding from a shoulder wound but looked like he would live, and Deaq couldn't spare the sympathy for a torturer. He considered inviting Jared out to get drunk after this was all wrapped up-coming down from a bust induced adrenaline high could be brutal without the cushioning effects of a bottle of tequila, especially for a first time rookie. Van usually needed the dulling qualities of alcohol, too. Otherwise he'd be up all night jabbering about this or that. Come to think of it, Van was unusually quiet.

But before the liquid debriefing, there was a crime scene to mop up. "Got any cuffs?" Deaq asked, seeing Randy come up on all fours, shaking her head in confusion. "Gotta contain that witch before she finds a broomstick and rides off."

"I do," Van spoke for the first time, holding up his right arm. A regulation metal cuff encircled his narrow wrist, the twin dangling loosely below. He giggled in a strange, slightly hysterical way. "Rudy has the keys."

"Jared, find the keys and cuff Randy to her husband," Deaq ordered roughly to shake the kid out of his haze. Jared nodded abruptly, then came to life. Digging into the devil's pockets with a grimace he came up with a glint of silver clutched in his fist. "She'll love the cozy togetherness," Deaq snarked. With his eye on his partner, he finally dialed the phone. Something was very off with Van and it scared him more than he wanted to admit.

"Deaq?" Billie demanded before the first ring died away.

"Send in the clean up crew, Billie, and an ambulance."

"For Van?" she asked and her voice actually squeaked like a frightened girl. Deaq had never heard that before.

"For Rudy," he corrected, his heart contracting. As Van stepped out of the brilliant cone of light to let Jared unlock his restraints Deaq realized his partner was hurt-bad from the look of things. Van had his left hand shoved up under his right armpit and he couldn't quite stifle a groan when Jared jostled him getting the key in the lock. Once the cuffs were removed he wrapped his right arm around himself, as if it were freezing inside the building instead of sweltering.

"Van?" Deaq absently pocketed the flip phone, approaching his friend cautiously. Van Ray looked spooked, his huge, dilated pupils surrounded entirely by white until the iris barely showed. The warehouse's dim interior made it difficult to see clearly, but now that he looked closely Deaq could discern the marks of a beating on Van's face. His lip was already swollen and a tiny trickle of blood colored the cheekbone. "Van, whassup?'

"All good." Van was hunched so tightly his neck and back had to be screaming from the tension. Deaq felt his own spine tighten in empathetic stress.

"Lemmee see the battle scars, player," Deaq said softly, very conscious of how skittish Van was. He had a rabbity tendency under normal conditions, and these were decidedly not what could be construed as normal.

"I gotta get outta here, Deaq," Van said, his breathing rapid fire and shallow.

"Let Dr. Deaq see your hand, baby," Deaq cooed. He was marginally aware that Jared had cuffed the prisoners and was now talking to someone, hopefully the cavalry but he kept his focus directly on Van. And truth be told, he didn't really want to see what those cruel SOB's had done.

"I gotta get outta here." Van repeated breathlessly. A casual viewer might suspect Van was jacked up on some illegal substance but Deaq knew differently. Van was always a little hyper, and between the firefight and his injury he was probably totally looped. The important thing was to get him calmed down enough for medical care.

"C'mon, siddown." Deaq righted the overturned chair but Van shook his head violently, backing away.

"Not there," he panted.

It wasn't until then that Deaq spied the blood-encrusted handcuff attached to the left arm of the chair. Both bracelets were securely locked-how in the hell had Van gotten free? With a curse he flung the offending piece of furniture into the darkest corner.

"Take this," Jared shoved his wine red Egyptian cotton shirt at Deaq. "For the blood-he's bleeding. PD says the medics are on the way."

He certainly was bleeding. Deaq reached out to pull his partner towards him, hand slicking against the sticky wetness. Van still held his hand in his armpit but blood had trickled down the side of his dark shirt, sticking the fabric to his body.

"Deaq, you don't wanna," Van said beseechingly, his eyes haunted by the horrific experience.

"Relax, player, I'm not gonna play frontier doctor and stitch you up with a leather needle." Deaq teased gently, finally catching hold of his recalcitrant partner. Van was like a feral thing, trembling and wild, ready to bolt any second. "Paramedics'll be here, do the real work. Lemme take a look."

With a stifled cry of pain Van relinquished his death grip on the mangled hand, uncurling his body to bring it out into the light.

"Shit," Deaq hissed and he heard Jared echo the sentiment. Quickly wrapping the shirt around the wound Deaq was brought up short by the appallingly vicious way Van had been treated. He'd only had one brief glimpse but that was enough. The hand looked like raw meat, the horrible slice nearly severing the thumb just below the first joint but a single flap of skin still intact attached the thumb to the base of the hand. Fighting to keep his cool Deaq plastered on an unconvincing smile. "You'll be out thumbin' for a lift before the summer is out, Moondoggie."

Fear must have been the only thing holding him up because Van staggered and would have fallen but for the grip Deaq had on him. "Y'think they'll be able to reattach it?"

Guiding Van over to a pile of crates Deaq thought he didn't have the first idea whether the digit was salvageable but he wanted to sound optimistic. Besides he could hear the whine of a siren closing in and soon Van would be in the hands of professionals. "Sure thing, no problemo."

"The kid came through, huh?" Van asked, wincing when Deaq tightened the shirt around his hand to staunch the blood. "Did you see him? Everything I taught him, laid it all out-earned extra credit for sure."

This was the Van Deaq recognized-a motor mouth, chattering on to disguise the intensity of his emotions. "Missed the show," Deaq smiled apologetically. He'd had every intention of getting there sooner but even an Astin Martin could only go so fast on a clogged city street. The guilt that his slowness had caused his partner considerable harm was palpable, a deep wound inside him but he didn't let it show. Like Van, he talked over it. "But the reviews sound great. I give you all the credit."

Jared was certainly being the consummate police officer now. He was all over the place, directing the cops who had come to cart off the prisoners, giving his statement to the senior uniform all the while keeping his eye on Van and Deaq. It made Deaq wonder why he'd ever worried about Jared's presence at all. Jared had saved Van's life, pure and simple.

"No." Van looked off in the distance, shamefaced, as the paramedics came trooping noisily in. "They called Billie when.I was screaming."

That explained Billie's barely concealed fear. "Van, my man," Deaq said softly, his belly cramping at thought of Rudy and his scalpel-sharp knife. "That's where I give you the credit. For holding on and fighting back." He had his partner's attention now, keeping him occupied while the medics gently peeled back the makeshift bandage to take a look at the wound. Those green eyes were riveted on him, needing the acceptance and reassurance that what had happened had not striped Van of his manhood. "I'd'a still been screaming my fool head off," Deaq confessed. "But you kept your cool an' head butted that piece of slime. Took a lickin' but you kept on tickin'."

"Like a Timex?" Van laughed tiredly.

"Gen-u-ine," Deaq agreed.

FIN


End file.
